


A Time to Be So Small

by LikeSatellites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Double Penetration, Light Angst, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Verbal Humiliation, and cracky, and cute, basically this is kageyama needing reassuring, but it is also funny, by the team, for the team, from the team, he gets it sexually, i think, i will not lie, know what i mean, okay don't hate me, okay so this is kinky, pretty dark, sexually, this fic is dark, um, well no not sexually but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:05:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeSatellites/pseuds/LikeSatellites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The name “King” didn’t follow him into his dreams as much anymore. Though sometimes the word would ring in his ears in a voice Kageyama didn’t want to acknowledge, and he’d be forced to roll over, pile pillows around his face, the soft cotton pressing into his cheeks, until he could fall asleep. If he didn’t act fast enough, he’d feel heat trickle down the back of his neck like droplets of sweat (was he actually sweating?), falling in streaks down his spine until he shivered. Suddenly so warm with no respite, even after kicking all the sheets and blankets to the floor, Kageyama would lay staring up at the ceiling in just his boxers until the name “King” coiled its way around his bare skin like the wet heat of July. </p><p>Basically Kageyama has bad trauma from his old team, and he needs his new team to assure him he is one of them.<br/>And then it gets kinky. And dark. Both. At once.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I do not own or claim to own any of these babies. And if I did, I would probably not let them feel ouchies. Also, please leave comments and kudos. If people like it, I will write a second part! Thanks!
> 
> Also this fic will probably make you uncomfortable. And you may or may not like that.

           These days Kageyama could barely remember the times when he reluctantly showed up for morning practice with a scowl so firm his cheeks would ache. It seemed like these days Kageyama couldn’t even get into bed without feeling bitter about being away from the court. When the fuck did that happen?

       The name “King” didn’t follow him into his dreams as much anymore, either. Though sometimes the word would ring in his ears in a voice Kageyama didn’t want to acknowledge, and he’d be forced to roll over, pile pillows around his face, the soft cotton pressing into his cheeks, until he could fall asleep. If he didn’t act fast enough, he’d feel heat trickle down the back of his neck like droplets of sweat (was he actually sweating?), falling in streaks down his spine until he shivered. Suddenly so warm with no respite, even after kicking all the sheets and blankets to the floor, Kageyama would lay staring up at the ceiling in just his boxers until the name “King” coiled its way around his bare skin like the wet heat of July.

       “Don’t call me that. Please don’t call me that.”

His hand traced its way down the middle of his chest, feeling the slickness on his skin until he reached the waistband of his boxer shorts. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together to feel the sweat before he wiped it on the soft fabric of his sheets and rolled over onto his stomach to groan into his mattress.

       Please, he thought.

The word “please” always tasted funny on his tongue. Sort of like stale sugar, and if he kept it in his mouth long enough the staleness would melt away into perfect sweetness. He liked the way his tongue would unfurl around the middle of the word, the tip of it stroking against the roof of his mouth with the ‘l’ sound.

Please.

The word opened him up, and for that reason Kageyama would never say it.

       Daichi was there in the morning to draw open the heavy metal doors to the gym. His hair was already matted with sweat to the tops of his cheekbones, which softened his face in a way that never matched his eyes. Daichi was quite obviously a kind-hearted person, but there was something sharp in him that Kageyama could never un-see.

Sometimes his eyes would meet Kageyama’s from the other side of the net during a practice game, and Kageyama would find himself unable to look away. Daichi’s eyes were sometimes so warm and deep, and other times that depth could be terrifying. Kageyama thought of those images of deep-sea scuba divers, standing at the edge of an undersea crevice, looking down at complete and utter blackness. Kageyama was always standing at that edge with Daichi, wondering if it would be safe to keep looking or perhaps dive deeper.

       Daichi laid a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder. “You keep getting here earlier and earlier, you know.”

       Kageyama didn’t know how to reply. “I guess that’s true. Why? Is that weird? I’m here on time, at least. Which is more than I can say for o—”

       “Relax, relax,” Daichi said, voice deep with the sound of amusement. “It’s good. I’m glad you’re excited to show up these days.”

       Kageyama turned away towards the locker room door and rubbed the back of his neck. Endearment gave him hives.

       “Suga said he’d be here early, but I guess he missed the bus,” Daichi added, peering through the open gym door at the walkway.

       Kageyama snorted softly and picked up one of the volleyballs off the floor from where Daichi had been practicing serving—possibly for a while now since Daichi’s palms were flushed red. Kageyama suspected that Daichi slept in the gym, just so he didn’t have to be away from the court.

       “You could call him, you know. Phones are a thing,” Kageyama pointed out, taking a few steps behind the line of the court and tossing the ball up. “If you’re really that worried about your—” He ran forward, lifted his arms into formation, and struck the ball in midair over the line, watching it soar over the net to strike down on the far left side. “Uh, friend.” He turned around and offered his captain a wry smile.

       Daichi simply lifted his eyebrows and smiled in return. The trees outside rustled, and Daichi turned towards the door.

“Looks like your, ‘uh friend’ is here.”

       Hinata appeared, pitching through the doorway after tripping over the concrete steps, and he fell forward onto his hands, continuing to crawl forward towards Kageyama. From his position on the floor, Hinata lifted his chin and smiled that smile that made Kageyama’s stomach acids churn.  He had teeth like a small rabbit, like a child’s teeth, perfectly shaped and white all throughout his mouth. With the whites of his eyes exposed as he glanced up from his spot on the ground, Hinata prodded at Kageyama’s shin.

       “You started practicing without me,” he said.

       “I hit one serve.”

       “I saw it through the window.”

       “So I didn’t really start without you, since you saw it, dumbass.”

       Hinata climbed Kageyama’s leg until he was standing again. Kageyama felt the calloused touch of Hinata’s fingers linger on his skin.

       “Toss to me now,” Hinata said, wriggling in place.

       Daichi laughed behind them, and the sound made Kageyama wince as goosebumps rose on his forearms. Daichi’s laughter could be felt deep in his chest. Kageyama knew the whole team loved to hear their captain laugh, and he often wondered if they all secretly goofed off just to hear more of it. It was the kind of laughter that Kageyama wished he could replay over and over when he felt cold.

       “We late? Our bus got stuck behind a goat on the road,” Suga said, stepping into the gym.

       “A…goat?” Daichi repeated.

       “Yeah, it was crazy!” Nishinoya called out, shucking off his backpack and tossing it against the wall.

       “I got off the bus to scare it away,” Tanaka said, cracking his knuckles in a way Kageyama supposed was meant to be intimidating, as if Tanaka hadn’t been talking about scaring a goat off a poorly-paved country road. Tanaka looked down at his fingernails, inspecting them like a street thug.

       “You stood there and told it jokes,” Nishinoya scoffed. “You asked it why the goat crossed the road and then said ‘because the bus needs to get to school.’”

       “Well it worked, didn’t it?” Tanaka turned, hands on hips, towards Nishinoya.

       Nishinoya rolled his eyes. “It worked because Suga convinced the bus driver to actually honk the horn instead of cussing to himself.”

       Daichi grabbed the front of Suga’s shirt and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Suga chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

       “I left my phone in your room, remember?” Suga said, voice soft and yet thick with the beginning sounds of laughter.

       Daichi stepped back and cleared his throat with his fist pressed to his lips. “Uh, yeah, so, anyhow.” He raised his voice and clapped his hands together. “Let’s get to practice then.”

       “Uh, captain, we’re still missing people.” Nishinoya bent into a stretch, legs hip-width apart, arms reaching down to press his palms to the floor.

       Kageyama let his eyes trail over Nishinoya’s body, small but fit, as if his pale skin were simply stretched directly over muscle. He had that quality over someone like Hinata, who retained a kind of softness, despite being so small and strong. He instilled in Kageyama a protective instinct that Kageyama never felt for Nishinoya. They were both loud—God were they loud—but Hinata’s voice seemed more like a cry for his attention than Nishinoya’s. Nishinoya shouted to create a shell of warm sound around someone, someone like Asahi who needed that protection.

Hinata would shout because something low down in his gut compelled him to let something out, something he couldn’t control, something he wasn’t even sure about. He shouted because he didn’t know what else to do. Kageyama used to resent the sound, since it was shrill and raspy like a crow’s call, but these days Kageyama thought silence was more of a jarring sound.

Tsukishima and Asahi rolled through the doors after warm-ups, their lips forming the sounds of apologies before they’d even dropped their bags against the wall. Tsukishima’s apology was clearly less sincere than Asahi’s, since Asahi’s gaze always seemed at least partially apologetic. Tsukishima would never apologize, as giving an apology would mean feeling genuine emotion.

Practice ran as smoothly as any practice of seven teenage boys aiming balls at one another could possibly run. Kageyama and Hinata attempted to work on their fast passing, but Kageyama kept getting distracted. There was this weird anxiety crawling up the rungs of his ribs and spreading out like hot wax, freezing him in place. He was surrounded by the sounds of his friends—they were his friends, right?—but he felt like something was off. The energy flowing through the gym didn’t seem to ever really reach him.

King, King, King.

Please don’t walk away again.

Please don’t call me that.

I’m right here.

We’re a team.

Daichi ended practice and told everyone to shower before the Dean gave them a stink violation (“There’s no such thing…is there?” Tanaka cried, craning his neck down to sniff his body.), so they all piled into the small locker room.

Kageyama opened his locker and peered into it, as if it might provide answers to questions he wasn’t sure how to ask. He hid behind the door for a few moments. He could vagely hear the swishing sounds of sneakers being peeled off, tossed into lockers, but all he could really hear was the rising beat of his heart climbing up into his throat.

This was absurd. He was over that name. This team was different. He knew that.

“Oy, King, you going to stand around in your own stink while everyone else showers? Is that what gives you your strength? The power of man-stench?”

A hand landed next to Kageyama’s locker. The hand was pale with dark lines of veins trailing through, long fingers curved around the metal.

“Fuck off, Tsukishima,” Kageyama said, internally groaning. “I’m meditating on how much better at volleyball I am than you.”

“Must be a pretty brief and depressing meditation,” Tsukishima replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Since that’s bullshit.”

“Can you not? Just for one moment in your life, can you just not? Is that possible?”

“Whoa, whoa, King, calm your tits. I was just ruffling your kingly feathers,” Tsukishima said, eyebrow quirking as he appraised the expression that had formed on Kageyama’s face. “You look, uh, well aside from just downright sweaty, you look kind of down?”

“Are you having a genuine conversation with me right now?”

“Aren’t we teammates?”

Kageyama froze, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, which had become stuck to his chest with sweat.

“Earth to the King,” Tsukishima said, poking a cold finger against the back of Kageyama’s neck.

Kageyama spun around, hands gripping onto Tsukishima’s shoulders as he slammed him back against the lockers. The room was oddly silent with everyone gone into the showers. Tsukishima and Kageyama’s breath was loud enough to fill that void.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t. We aren’t teammates. We aren’t friends. Don’t fucking dare call me that and then ask me if we’re teammates,” Kageyama hissed, palms digging into Tsukishima’s collarbones.

Tsukishima tilted his head back against the locker and laughed into the open air. “What, ‘King?’” His voice dropped an octave as he leaned against the pressure of Kageyama’s hands. “Is that it, ‘King?’ Does that positively tingle your jimmies, you conceited try-hard?”

“Don’t fucking…don’t…don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Tsukishima lifted his knee, stabilizing it between his body and Kageyama’s as he leaned closer to his face.

“I’m not part of your team. I’m not. Don’t call me King. I’m not…I’m…don’t…”

“You are, though. We’re a team, you self-centere—”

“You don’t fucking get to call me King and then tell me I’m part of your team. You don’t get it. You don’t get anything that isn’t about you. What would you know about being a team? What would you know about that, huh? You can’t see past the end of your stupid fucking lenses, you—”

Tsukishima aimed his knee higher, brushing it between Kageyama’s thighs. Kageyama pitched forward, hands landing on either side of Tsukishima’s face on the lockers behind them.

An embarrassing sound slipped out between Kageyama’s lips.

“What would I know about being a team? You’d be surprised, King. You see, being a team is about trust. Being a team is about giving one another what we need. Being a team is about the give and take, right?”

Kageyama was silent, save for the sound of his breath hitching. Tsukishima laughed again and lifted a hand to grip Kageyama’s chin, tipping it up until their eyes met.

“Right, King?”

“P...”

“What was that?”

Kageyama averted his gaze until Tsukishima gripped his chin tighter. A soft noise of surprise puffed out of Kageyama’s mouth. “Pl…ea…se…”

Tsukishima scoffed deep in his throat. “Please, what, King?”

“Please don’t call me that. I want to,” he paused, pressing his lips tightly together.

Tsukishima’s face was close enough for Kageyama to feel his breath against his cheek. “What do you want, Kageyama?”

“Make me feel,” he breathed out. “Like part of the team.”

“Say it again, King,” Tsukishima replied, smirk curling one side of his lips.

Kageyama looked down at his feet, heat rising like steam into his skull. He shook his head.

“Say it again, Kageyama.”

“Please.”

The word seeped out, airy, as if it were never there at all, but both of them knew it was. It lingered between them. Tsukishima seemed to breathe it in, like it gave him the strength he needed to move his hands to Kageyama’s hips and tug him forward.

“Well, we are a team,” he said, lips just centimeters from Kageyama’s. Just before he was about to press their lips together, Tsukishima pushed hard at Kageyama’s body. His knees buckled beneath him, and he dropped to the floor, eyes lifting to meet Tsukishima’s behind his glasses. “Like I said, a team means give and take.”

Kageyama’s gaze hardened. “You planned this, didn’t you, you four-eyed shitstain?”

“Kageyama,” Tsukishima muttered, reaching down to run his fingers through Kageyama’s hair.

The touch was gentle for a moment as Tsukishima’s nails trailed over Kageyama’s scalp, and he found himself leaning into Tsukishima’s hand. Tsukishima chuckled and tightened his hand into a fist, gripping the silky strands of hair, jerking Kageyama’s head back.

“If you want respect and trust from this team, you have to be willing to give. You have to be willing to beg.”

“What would you know about begging?”

Tsukishima’s cheeks colored. “I know my fair share. Just ask Yamaguchi. But this is about you. You’ll never feel like part of the team until you let your uptight fuckwad attitude go, Kageyama. If you want to leave your King shit behind you, you have to—” Tsukishima dropped his gaze to his own crotch. “Let your new team in.”

“Don’t play around with me, asshole.”

“Think about it, Kageyama. You never sleep. You’re always distracted. You’re haunted by your old team because they never let you in. And you never tried to let them in either. Your walls are all up, and you need a lesson in letting go. So…trust me.”

Tsukishima reached for his waistband, slipping his fingers under the cotton. He was about to pull his shorts over his hips when Kageyama’s hands shot up to grab his wrists.

“Wait,” he said, head tipping forward until his forehead hit Tsukishima’s lower stomach. “I have to trust you, right? So…let go.” Kageyama cleared his throat and raised his voice slightly. “Let go…please.”

Tsukishima smirked and moved his hands away, placing them back into Kageyama’s hair.

Kageyama pulled his head away from the softness of Tsukishima’s stomach and bowed it. “What do I do?”

Tsukishima relaxed back against the cold metal of the lockers and ran his fingers over the smooth skin at the nape of Kageyama’s neck. “Whatever you want.”

Kageyama’s fingers pinched the fabric of Tsukishima’s shorts, but he suddenly couldn’t move. “Tell me.”

“Say please again.”

“Please,” Kageyama murmured, swallowing thickly.

“Touch me, Tobio.”

That was all the incentive Kageyama needed. He tugged down Tsukishima’s shorts, letting the fabric pool at the boy’s ankles. His cheek pressed to the front of Tsukishima’s boxers, feeling heat against his bare skin. He nuzzled his cheek there, knowing he must look absurd, desperate, crazed, but he didn’t care.

“Tell me again what to do. Tell me my position, tell me my role, tell me like I’m…”

“Like you’re important?” Tsukishima finished for him. “Look, this isn’t some kinda weird psychotherapy. I want you to touch me, but not if it means you’re gonna lose it at the end. I want you to touch me the way you’d want to be touched. You give, and I’ll give. And trust me,” Tsukishima murmured, gripping the back of Kageyama’s neck, “it’ll be worth it when I give it to you, Tobio. So fucking touch me, so I know you want that.”

Kageyama wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything more. He lifted the hem of Tsukishima’s shirt and flicked his tongue along the elastic band of his boxers. The salt melted on his tongue. It made him crave more. His hands curved around Tsukishima’s body, palms curving over his ass as he shoved his boxers down with a soft groan.

“Tell me more.”

“Ah, the uptight setter has a submission kink, huh?” Tsukishima said, smirking, as he arched his hips forward. “Suck me, you conceited asshole. Degrade yourself for once. It’ll be therapeutic for you.”

Kageyama wanted to feel bitter and hurt, but he honestly couldn’t argue against any of Tsukishima’s words. And if he wanted to be even more honest with himself, he liked the way the words stung. Maybe it was why the name “King” always kept him up at night, filling his body with fire.

He leaned forward and let the flat of his tongue run up the underside of Tsukishima’s cock. His eyes rolled up to meet Tsukishima’s, and he felt the warmth in his stomach coil lower and lower when he saw how utterly turned on Tsukishima was. His cheeks were flushed, gaze hazy, and he was back to fisting Kageyama’s hair like reins.

“In your mouth, Tobio. Now.” Tsukishima’s voice cracked.

Kageyama took that as a small victory, just as he wrapped his fingers around the base of Tsukishima’s cock. He couldn’t tell if his palm was hot, or if Tsukishima’s dick was hot, but there was a lot of heat in his hand, and it almost burned, and then were was heat all over his body. To hide his confusion, Kageyama quickly shifted forward and took Tsukishima’s cock into his mouth.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. It was hard to move his tongue under the weight, and his lips felt stretched and chapped instantly. He slid his lips as far down as he possibly could before he felt like there was a tongue depressor jabbing at his tonsils. He attempted to wiggle his tongue underneath the warm skin, his cheeks hollowing out like he’d seen in Tanaka’s porn at training camp. As his head bobbed, his mouth made an obscene sound, like a boot in thick mud after a rainstorm. It was disgusting and lewd, but Tsukishima’s breathing was ragged and harsh, and Kageyama thought that sound was absolutely addicting.

The hands in his hair tightened again, and Tsukishima’s head dropped, his chin hitting his neck as his eyes shut. His glasses tumbled to the floor, but neither of them moved.

“Fuck, Tobio. Fucking hell,” Tsukishima breathed, yanking at Kageyama’s hair to move his head faster.

Kageyama’s mouth was sore. He needed to swallow, he needed to take a full breath, but he was hooked on the sensation of salt seeping into his throat, the feeling of Tsukishima pulsing on his tongue, the sounds of breathless pleasure in the air.

Kageyama’s hands moved to Tsukishima’s hips, nails digging into the skin there as he moved his head faster, added more suction, groaned against the impending sensation of gagging. Apparently that was smart of him, though, since the vibration of his groan seemed to hit Tsukishima like sexual whiplash. Kageyama’s scalp burned as Tsukishima practically tore at his hair with the pressure of his imminent orgasm, when suddenly Tsukishima pulled his hips back and slammed them against the lockers while pushing Kageyama away.

Kageyama flew back onto his ass, hands catching his fall. He looked up in complete confusion as Tsukishima drew in a deep breath and smiled down at him.

“Say it again, little cockslut.”

Kageyama scoffed and turned his head away.

“Don’t lie to yourself now. You want me to give it to you, don’t you? Beg for it, Tobio. Beg for it now.”

Kageyama debated for a brief moment before he crawled forward slowly, tongue sliding over his chapped bottom lip. He stood back up on his knees, reaching for Tsukishima, who simply rolled his eyes and shoved at Kageyama’s forehead, knocking him back again. Kageyama moaned and rubbed at his sore tailbone.

“Please, Tsukishima. Please let me have it. I want it.”

“What do you want, Tobio? Use your words.”

“I want you to…in my mouth…or…on…on….”

“You want me to cum on you, Tobio?”

Kageyama didn’t think he’d ever been so degraded in his life.

But that wasn’t true. He remembered the feeling of sinking deep, deep into the ground as he watched his old teammates walk away from him. Their rejection hurt him more than he could’ve ever imagined possible. But this was different. Tsukishima wasn’t really pushing him away. He was waiting for Kageyama to fill the gap between them. He needed Kageyama to trust him, and Kageyama needed that trust in return. He needed a sign that Tsukishima wouldn’t walk away.

“Please,” Kageyama pleaded. “Please, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima wrapped his hand around his own cock, stroking slowly as Kageyama crawled forward again, this time without being pushed away. He let his mouth fall open, eyes steady on Tsukishima’s face. Tsukishima moaned, a low deep sound, his eyes wide and crazed as he bit down hard on his bottom lip. His body shook, thigh muscles tightening as he jerked his hips forward into his own fist.

“You’re a good little slut, aren’t you, Tobio? You like to give, don’t you? You want to be liked, don’t you?”

Kageyama’s face burned, his blood so hot in his veins he feared his skin would melt off. “Yes, I do. Give it to me, please.”

Tsukishima’s body convulsed, and he rammed his skull back against the metal lockers, groaning swears under his breath as he came. Kageyama watched up until the moment he felt wetness on his cheek, and he shut his eyes tight. He felt the droplets land on his forehead, lips, chin, and he ran his tongue out over the bow of his top lip to taste it.

It was vile.

But it tasted like Tsukishima. It was his reward. And he felt oddly grateful.

“Is this a bad time or--?”

“CAPTAIN DON’T LOOK! IT’S OBSCENE!”

Kageyama’s eyes flew open, and he fell forward onto his hands. “I?”

Tsukishima bent to pick up his glasses from the floor, securing them in place before smiling at his teammates, now standing in their towels in front of them.

“Kageyama was feeling left out. Like he wasn’t part of the team. I was helping,” Tsukishima said, reaching down to wipe the pad of his thumb over Kageyama’s nose, smearing away a line of cum.

“Help…ing…?” Asahi repeated.

Daichi laid a hand on Asahi’s shoulder and stepped forward. “And how do you feel, Kageyama?” he asked.

“I feel good. I feel…”

Daichi smiled gently at him, his hand moving to tuck a strand of Suga’s hair behind his ear. “Do you feel like part of the team now? Completely?”

“I--?”

Hinata moved out from the showers, hand holding his towel low on his hips. Kageyama looked up at him, eyes wide and fearful. Hinata’s eyes clouded over, darkened in a way Kageyama had never seen before.

“Can you truly be part of the team if you’ve only been welcomed by one member?” Hinata muttered, lips curving up into a harsh smile.

Kageyama sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting the remains of Tsukishima’s orgasm. Hinata’s eyes seemed to follow the movement, but his expression never changed.

“You should speak when someone asks you a question, Tobio,” Tsukishima said, pressing the sole of his foot against Kageyama’s chest, knocking him onto his back.

“Hey now, man, this is a team bonding thing, right?” Tanaka asked, running a small towel over his buzzed hair. “You got to make the guy feel warm and welcome.”

“I feel plenty warm,” Kageyama gritted out, staring down at the stains on his shirt.

Daichi knelt down in front of him and cupped his cheeks. “Kageyama, you’re important to our team. Do you really feel left out? That makes me feel like a failure as your captain, honestly.” Daichi’s gaze hardened like cold steel.

Suga fell to the floor beside Daichi and patted the top of his head. “Now now, Captain, let’s not make this about you. This is all about Kageyama. We should…hmm…how should I say it?” Suga turned his eyes to Kageyama, his lips in a loose, calm smile. “Make sure he’s open for all of us. And then remind him we all need him.”  

Daichi’s hands dropped away from Kageyama’s face, which instantly felt cold without the touch. Kageyama felt himself pressing forward, seeking out the warm skin again.

Suga chuckled and pulled Kageyama towards him by the collar of his shirt. Suga quickly glanced over at Daichi, who nodded, giving Suga silent permission to fill the gap between him and Kageyama.

Kageyama felt the slickness of water on his chin from Suga’s shower. He felt the smoothness of lips, like a sudden burst of spring air against his face. It felt like he’d just come in from the rain. That’s how Suga felt against him. Kageyama pressed himself as close to Suga’s body as he could manage on the floor, their chests together, hips centimeters apart, lips connected. Suga tilted his head, angling his mouth, allowing Kageyama’s lips to move more firmly against his. The kiss was sweet and smooth, like Suga’s voice, like Suga’s everything.

Kageyama released a puff of exasperated air against Suga’s lips until the other boy laughed and opened his lips for him. Their tongues slid against one another’s, and Kageyama moaned as he shared the taste of Tsukishima into Suga’s mouth.

Suddenly there were hands wrapping around his throat, tilting it to the side. Suga moved with Kageyama, as if knowing the move was going to happen before it did. Daichi closed his mouth around the skin under Kageyama’s jaw and sucked. Kageyama released a high-pitched whine and broke the kiss. Suga pouted at him, but when he saw Daichi’s teeth working over the faint bruise on Kageyama’s neck he burst into laughter.

“You never knew how to share, did you?” Suga asked.

Daichi pulled back, licked his lips, and grinned. “This is sharing, Suga,” he replied, clearly pleased with himself. “Should we show Tobio how good we are at sharing, hm?”

Suga looked perplexed for a moment, brows knitting together.

“Daichi, you aren’t thinking of—”

“Captain, we haven’t tried that since Nishinoya joined,” Tanaka threw out, cocky smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Nishinoya, standing next to Asahi with a distracted expression, froze in place and turned an absolutely absurd shade of scarlet. “I thought we promised not to speak of that,” he grumbled.

Asahi smiled down at him and ran a hand down the boy’s spine. Nishinoya shivered.

“You looked great,” Asahi whispered, bending to speak in Nishinoya’s ear, though everyone else in the room could still hear.

“Yeah, well, one time Asahi came in his gym shorts when I rubbed him off before practice!” Nishinoya cried, jumping away from Asahi’s touch.

Asahi blinked in surprise.

The rest of the team blinked along.

“Well, that’s nice to know,” Tsukishima said, rolling his eyes. “Now, what were you saying about sharing, Captain?”

Daichi coughed once into his palm, as if emptying his throat of the image of Asahi playing volleyball on his court with cum-stained Nike shorts. He shivered.

“Yes, um, it’s entirely up to Tobio, but it’ll be a good way to test him while also showing him we mean it when we say he’s part of the team.”

“Daichi,” Suga warned. “We don’t even know if he’s—”

“He has,” Hinata said, wrinkling his nose as he inspected his fingers.

Kageyama knew he was looking for new calluses. Hinata liked finding new abrasions on his skin, signs that the sport would never leave him. Signs that he was a real athlete.  He’d pick the calluses into scars. And he’d stare at the scars for hours. Kageyama tried to get him to cover them with bandages, creams, but Hinata refused.

Everyone in the room whipped around to look at Hinata.

“He has, eh?” Tanaka asked, gaze flickering between Hinata and Kageyama.

“He has,” Hinata repeated, dropping his hands to his sides. “Right, Tobio?”

Kageyama lowered his head and nodded.

He could hear Tsukishima laughing next to him, and it made something bubble up in his stomach. Something that rose into his chest and burst like a spark. Something that trickled down his veins into his fingers and toes.

He looked up, suddenly confident, and made eye contact with Hinata.

“I can take it, can’t I?” Kageyama said, voice low and husky.

Hinata seemed to shudder at the sound. He gave a smile, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “You’ll be good, won’t you, Tobio? Good for your team? You trust us, don’t you?”

Kageyama nodded and looked back to his captain and Suga. “Teach me what to do.”

Suga pulled Kageyama back against his chest and ran his hands over his body. Kageyama closed his eyes at the feeling of hands skirting under his shirt, tugging it over his head. He barely even registered his shorts being tossed aside as well, except when Suga had to coax him off the ground to fully remove them.

Suga had Kageyama maneuvered onto his lap, his hands in Kageyama’s hair as he kissed, nipped, and sucked from his lips down his jaw to his neck. Kageyama practically stopped breathing at all the devoted attention. He was aware at the back of his mind that the others were all watching. His teammates. His friends.

Hinata.

He could almost make out the sound of Hinata’s breathing among the other breaths in the room. Hinata’s breathing in the darkness. It was a sound Kageyama knew well. It was comforting but also kept him on edge.

Kageyama found himself drifting, as if his consciousness were seeping out of his body through his pores, and he were simply watching himself from some objective position, watching himself but not feeling.

“Tobio, look at me,” Suga said, voice soft and clear.

Kageyama turned at the sound, eyes shifting away from the crowd and focussing in on the soft face of Sugawara. Suga’s expression seemed to soothe the pounding in Kageyama’s chest, the rapid flow of blood that tingled at the tips of his fingers and made him squirm on Suga’s thighs.

Suga’s lips parted, a quiet groan slipping out as Kageyama’s ass grazed over his towel-clad crotch. Suga’s hands automatically jerked up to grip Kageyama’s neck, fingers grasping at the strands of hair at the back of his neck, pulling Kageyama back down into the kiss.

“Do that again,” Suga breathed out against his lips. “Tobio, do it again.”

Kageyama didn’t know how to feel about his name being used so liberally tonight. Maybe this was just another sign that he was part of this team without even really feeling it.

“Tobio,” Suga growled, teeth grazing harshly over the shell of his ear.

Kageyama jerked, toes curling, and began rocking slowly over Suga’s lap again. His hands held tightly to Suga’s shoulders, just the tips of his fingers lifting to play with the ends of Suga’s wavy hair as they dried against the nape of his neck. His cheeks were burning again, chest filled to bursting with humiliation that should have felt shameful but instead felt right. Kageyama lowered his ass and ground harder against Suga’s lap.

Suga panted, open-mouthed with half-lidded eyes. “God, Tobio, you’re so--”

“You can save the compliments for later, Team Mom, but right now I need--”

Daichi cut off Kageyama’s request with soft fingers sliding down his spine towards his tailbone. Kageyama practically purred, ass lifting back towards Daichi’s hand. Daichi laughed again, and it was such a familiar sound in such an unfamiliar situation that Kageyama himself also laughed.

“Hey, Captain, can I please?” Kageyama asked.

“Can you please what?”

Kageyama groaned and dropped his forehead to Suga’s shoulder. Suga chuckled against his ear and began running his fingers through Kageyama’s hair. Kageyama was almost ashamed of how instinctively he reacted to gentle touches in his hair. Almost.

“Daichi, leave the teasing for a time when we don’t have to get the team home before it gets too dark, eh?” Suga suggested, tipping Kageyama’s chin up again to press their lips together.

Daichi seemed to get lost in the sight because his fingers stopped moving.

Kageyama whined against Suga’s lips, so Suga pulled back again.

“Daichi,” Suga warned.

Kageyama saw something dark flash in Suga’s eyes, something that both frightened and intrigued him.

Daichi’s hands returned to Kageyama’s skin, teasing around his entrance with a slickness Kageyama hadn’t noticed before. Of course Daichi had lube in the locker rooms. Of course. Always prepared, their captain was.

At the press of a finger inside him, Kageyama bit down into Suga’s shoulder. Daichi kissed the back of Kageyama’s neck and slowly began working his finger against the heat pressing in against it. After a few moments, Daichi added a second finger and then a third. As he worked Kageyama open, Daichi leaned forward and met Suga over Kageyama's shoulder for a kiss. Kageyama almost felt like he was intruding on something as he watched their lips move together. Kageyama knew the two of them were more comfortable together than he could ever hope to be with anyone. Even when they were hissing at one another, clearly fed up like arguing parents, Kageyama knew they would come back together in peace with a kiss.

Kageyama froze as the three fingers began pumping inside him faster.

“Sorry, Tobio, but if this is going to work, you’re really going to have to trust us and relax, okay?” Daichi said, lips pressing over the deep bruise he’d left earlier.

Kageyama nodded, unable to make much of a reply as his body fought against the three fingers now scissoring deep inside him. He shut his eyes tightly and willed himself to relax.

“Suga, he’s ready for you.”

“Are you ready, Tobio?” Suga repeated the question as if Kageyama hadn’t just heard Daichi. And to be honest, he’d almost missed the question, too lost in the sensation of heat filling his skull like an impenetrable fog.

Kageyama found his voice for a brief moment, long enough to say, “God yes.”

Daichi removed his fingers, causing Kageyama to slam his hips down, seeking that heat again when it was gone. Daichi held tightly to Kageyama’s hip with one hand, using the other to untie Suga’s towel from his waist. When it fell away under Suga, Daichi slicked up Suga’s cock with a fist that looked almost too tight as Kageyama watched, but Suga’s eyelids fluttered, and he moaned.

Daichi brought the head of Suga’s cock to Kageyama’s entrance, and Suga slowly pressed in. Both he and Kageyama breathed out sharply, freezing in place with Suga buried as deep inside Kageyama as possible.

“You feel--”

“Don’t say anything, Suga, don’t say--” Kageyama broke off, voice thick with desperation.

“So fucking good, Tobio,” Suga finished, biting against Kageyama’s lower lip with a groan.

Kageyama shuddered at the praise. And then he shuddered harder, keening loudly as he felt Daichi’s newly re-slickened fingers circling his entrance again.

“I’m not ready, I’m not--”

Daichi kissed behind Kageyama’s ear, and Kageyama could feel the smirk on his lips against his skin.   
“No one is asking you to prove yourself, Tobio, but we also know you’re capable of more than most of us. And, between the two of us, if Nishinoya coul--”

“We can all hear you, Captain,” Nishinoya cried indignantly.

“Do you disagree with me?” Daichi retorted in his scary authorial voice. Kageyama didn’t even need to be facing him to know what his eyes probably looked like.

When Nishinoya didn’t reply, Daichi began working a finger into Kageyama, fighting against his body as it twitched around him. Even Suga gasped, a pained noise, when Daichi’s finger was pressed up against his cock inside Kageyama.

“Shit, Daichi, you could’ve said something,” Suga groaned.

“Okay now I’m saying something. I have to prepare him for you and for me and shit he's so tight, Suga.”

Clearly Daichi didn’t like being questioned, but Kageyama wasn’t sure why he got the brunt of Daichi’s frustration as he worked a second finger in beside the first. Kageyama wrenched his eyes shut tightly, whining and gasping and panting like he didn’t know what else to do but attempt to get as much air as possible in his lungs.

By the time there was a third finger inside him, working against his rim and dragging against his walls like fire, Kageyama was utterly writhing in Suga’s lap. Suga hadn’t even moved, also lost in the strange sensation of tightness that was perhaps even too tight.

“This is my warning,” Daichi said suddenly, his voice like a blur of breath against Kageyama’s shoulderblades. Daichi pulled his fingers out slowly, and Kageyama knew in that moment that Daichi would never let him try this if he didn’t have complete confidence in him, in them together, the three of them.

“You look beautiful, Tobio, all flushed and sweating and shaking around my fingers,” Daichi said in a growl, teeth against Kageyama’s earlobe.

Kageyama clenched up at the sound, but Daichi bit down hard, and hissed his name against the skin between his teeth.

“Fucking hell,” Kageyama wheezed out. “Please, Daichi, just…”

“I’m glad to see sex is one of the things that shuts you up,” Tsukishima called out.

Kageyama was about to shout back a retort when Daichi began pushing in beside Suga. Instead of a retort, the sound that escaped Kageyama’s lips was almost inhuman. It was high-pitched but guttural, a growl and a scream and a moan.

Suga’s nails dug into Kageyama’s hips, a sharp sting that fought for attention against the burning, scalding stretch of his body around his teammates.

“Fuck, Daichi, slow, please, slow,” Suga keened.

Daichi was breathing heavily, frozen with the head of his cock touching Suga’s inside Kageyama. “It’s a little hard to stop with him sucking me in like this,” Daichi grumbled. "And I can see your face too, Suga, and you're doing that thing with your lips--" 

“Are you sure I’m sucking you in or...am I...pushing you out because…”

“Just relax, Tobio,” Suga cooed, leaning forward to touch their lips together again. But Kageyama couldn’t really kiss back. His body was thrumming with a foreign kind of energy that was both pleasurable but also probably the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, worse even than when Hinata served directly into his crotch once.

Kageyama slowly opened his eyes, willing his body to just obey him like it did when he moved into setting position and waited for the ball. He’d known strain before, all athletes have, so this should have been no different. The more he thought about it, the more the heat overtook him, the sharp sting of pain shifting to a warm, numb pleasure. He had both Daichi and Suga inside him, their bodies pressed up against him from both sides, slick with water and sweat. And fuck if that wasn’t the sexiest situation imaginable.

He moaned low in his throat. “Shit, one of you move. Please, someone move.”

Suga rocked his hips once, experimentally, and Kageyama felt all the walls he’d built up start shattering down. The numbness still felt strange, but Suga’s movement inside him dragged Daichi upwards with him, and one of them must’ve brushed his prostate because Kageyama swore his vision blurred.

“Shit. Fuck, oh my God, don’t stop,” Kageyama begged, attempting to push down against their cocks, his hands pawing at Suga’s body desperately.

Daichi and Suga both halted him with heavy palms against his hips and sides. “No,” they growled in unison.

“Good God, it’ll be over in fucking seconds if you--”

“Trust me, you said,” Kageyama groaned, rolling his hips in circles to take charge of the moment. “Well, trust goes both ways.”

Daichi and Suga moaned again, frozen as Kageyama rolled his hips in small circles over their cocks, pushing them in deep and then shallow, all while they brushed against one another inside him.

“Fuck,” Suga whined. “I’m gonna come, Tobio, I’m going to--”

“Fine then come, but don’t make me stop moving because it feels so damn good,” Kageyama said thickly, rocking his hips harder, which didn’t do much other than push their cocks together deep inside him, and every once in a while the head of one of their cocks would brush his prostate. It was an addicting sensation.

Suga shuddered, muscles tightening and cock pulsing a few times.

“I can feel you coming like this, Suga,” Daichi rasped.

“Stop fucking talking, you brat, you know I'm weak for your voice like this, and I’m already--” Suga groaned, voice breaking as his body quaked and come leaked out of him inside of Kageyama. He let himself fall backwards and roll to the side, cock pulling out of Kageyama as his come dripped down the backs of Kageyama’s thighs.

Kageyama froze suddenly, back arching at the sensation of warm come on his skin mixed with the new chill of open air against his front.

Daichi also froze, biting down harshly on Kageyama’s neck as he also pulsed. “Damnit, Suga, your come feels so good that I’m going to--”

“I get it, you’re also gonna come, but Daichi please keep moving, please.”

Daichi gave a single low chuckle before his hips jerked up, slamming up into Kageyama with new force.

Kageyama pitched forward onto his hands and knees, palms stinging where they landed against the floor. Daichi kept a hold on his hips, fingers curled around his sharp hip bones as he thrusted deep and slow.

Kageyama’s hair fell like a curtain over his eyes. When Daichi released one of his hips and wrapped his fist around Kageyama’s cock, Kageyama dropped his chest to the floor, ass raised high, suddenly unable to hold himself up.

Daichi kept thrusting, and Kageyama was vaguely aware of the sounds of panting and slick palms running over erections in the background. It felt strange to be on display, but at the same time, after having two dicks inside him at the same time, Kageyama felt nothing could ever surprise him again.

When Kageyama knew he was seconds away from coming, he looked up and Hinata was kneeling in front of him. Hinata’s gentle hands tipped Kageyama’s chin up.

“You’re so good, Tobio,” he said, reaching out to stroke his hands over Kageyama’s face, smoothing sweat-matted hair from his cheekbones.

Kageyama’s chest felt full to bursting, in a different way than it had when he’d been called King. He felt full. He felt new.

“Tell me again,” he begged, eyes wide as he looked up at Hinata, body rocking forward with each of Daichi’s thrusts.

“You’re so, so good,” Hinata said, kissing with soft lips all over Kageyama’s face. His cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his chin, the two corners of his lips.

“God,” Kageyama breathed, back muscles tensing as he clenched up around Daichi and shook. “God, I want to be good.”

“You are, you are,” Hinata assured. “So good.”

Tears pricked at Kageyama’s eyes as the pleasure filled each and every part of his body, washing over him in a wave that he rode through for a few short moments before his body gave out.

“Team,” he breathed, collapsing into Hinata’s hold as the last vestiges of his orgasm held loosely onto his body. His own come stuck to his chest, feeling cold as it dried quickly against his skin. “You’re my--”

“Yes, Tobio, we are.”

Daichi groaned softly behind him, and Kageyama felt a new burst of come dripping out of him as Daichi pulled out. His warm palms grazed over Kageyama’s ass and thighs and over his tailbone as he kissed low on Kageyama’s spine.

“How do you feel, Tobio?” Hinata asked.

“Like a...King,” he found himself joking, voice barely a rasp.

Hinata laughed, that warm sunshine sound.

“Can’t let him get cocky,” Tsukishima tsked.

“I can fix that,” Nishinoya and Tanaka called out in unison.

“We have forty minutes until I have to send you home,” Daichi said, rolled onto his back and panting up at the ceiling.

“A team can get a lot done in forty minutes.”

 

****  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The impromptu after-practice /bonding/ session to help Kageyama recover from his past-team trauma continues. Not necessary to read part 1, but it might make more sense if you do! This time Nishinoya and Hinata join in to assist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me like a billion years to write this. I had pretty much given up on this fic, but then you guys kept sending me really hilarious and amazing comments...  
> SO I just couldn't give up. And thus, finally, after a bajillion million years, I have a part 2.   
> As always, I appreciate the comments and kudos and bookmarks, and UGH this fandom is too sweet. Seriously.

            Nishinoya’s hands were much rougher than Kageyama anticipated. Many things about Nishinoya were rougher than Kageyama anticipated. For starters, Nishinoya kissed much differently than Suga, Daichi, or Hinata.

            Suga kissed slow and deep, reaching into parts of Kageyama he wished would remain buried. He kissed like rays of the sun, stretching out, seeking something to warm, something to cradle in heat for a few long precious moments.

            Daichi kissed more powerfully. He kissed as if he needed to assert something. Kageyama could surrender himself to Daichi when they kissed, and he could be sure that Daichi would be able to spark that light inside Kageyama without him needing to do much at all. There was something comforting about that, but also something unnerving. Those were just the two sides of their captain.

            Hinata kissed like…

            Well, Kageyama couldn’t really put words to Hinata’s kisses. It was sort of like those kitchens that had magnetic words on their refrigerators, he thought, and he could stare at the magnets for hours or even days and all he would end up with would be something stupid like “your whisper echoes like soft rain” which means everything and yet nothing all at once. Kageyama couldn’t create any single stream of words that could possibly describe Hinata.

            “You’re zoning out, Tobio,” Nishinoya said, lips pressed against Kageyama’s neck. Kageyama was almost certain his throat would look positively _mauled_ after Nishinoya was through with him.

            “Sorry, I was thinking about magnets.”

            “For a certified volleyball genius, you’re actually kind of an idiot, aren’t you?” Nishinoya asked, teeth tugging at Kageyama’s ear.

            Kageyama arched into the bite and gripped at Nishinoya’s shoulders, where the boy was poised over him on the floor in the locker rooms. Kageyama’s whole body ached from being on the floor for a solid forty minutes or more thus far. Luckily Nishinoya was light. But his body was sharp, hipbones pressing bruises into Kageyama’s own hips as he ground down against him.

            There was a strange pleasure in the experience of feeling Nishinoya’s bones as Kageyama’s hands trailed down the notches of the boys’s spine. It was as if Kageyama could learn something more about him just by feeling the curves of harsh bone digging into him, like their bones could mix together and Kageyama could get lost there. He could get lost inside Nishinoya like that.

            “You’re zoning again, you loser,” Nishinoya said, knocking his fist against Kageyama’s skull. “Stay with me here or it’s creepy.”

            “Then bring me back, huh?” Kageyama dragged his nails down Nishinoya’s back before gripping at his ass, pulling his body down harder against him.

            Noya let out a sharp exhale, and Kageyama could feel his hard cock dragging up Kageyama’s thigh.

            “C’mon, Noya, get in me before Coach blows the whistle on us,” Kageyama urged, fingers slipping down to Nishinoya’s tailbone, teasing slowly to his entrance. “Or I could—”

            Nishinoya looped his arms under Kageyama’s thighs and threw his legs over his shoulders, bending Kageyama in half.

            Kageyama grunted, stomach muscles tightening as he tried to reorient his body under the new pressure of his own thighs against his chest. It felt like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs or maybe like he was standing under the direct spray of a showerhead, and he could technically breathe fine, but he was really just breathing in water. It was like that.

            “Hey, Tobes, remember when you shed tears after watching me make that save against Nekoma,” Nishinoya said, smirking down at him with their faces just inches apart.

            Kageyama could feel Nishinoya’s breath on his lips, his cock rutting up between his thighs, the surprising strength of his arms as they pinned Kageyama’s shoulders down to the floor.

            “Oh, get on with it, Yuu, before Hinata jumps between you and fucks Kageyama with the feral tenacity of—”

            “Tanaka, let’s not think about Hinata being feral please,” Asahi interjected. “But really though, Yuu, we’ve all been making bets back here as to whether you’ll even make it inside him before you cum, considering your history of—”

            “Excuse me,” Noya hissed, rising up so his cock pressed up against Kageyama’s. “But you’re the one who came in his gym shorts.”

            “That was one time, Yuu. Remember when we were on the roof during lunch, and my breath just grazed your dick, and you came in my hair? I had to go to the chemistry lab when it was vacated and use the emergency chemical shower to get semen out of my—”

            “Well, we get the point, don’t we?” Tsukishima cut in, nose scrunched up in disgust. Probably also adding that story to a list of reasons he never wants his mouth near a dick, right underneath _I am a selfish dickburger who would never reciprocate oral._

“I try not to rush,” Noya said snidely, turning his glare to Tsukishima, as if to say _we all were watching that blow job from behind the wall to the showers and damn son you come fast as hell_. Just like that. That’s how he’d say it.

Kageyama squirmed under Nishinoya, his legs suddenly cramping in their absurd yoga position. His hands grappled at Nishinoya’s shoulder blades as if he were rock climbing, seeking some kind of purchase, something to ground him. Sex seemed to un-ground him frequently, as there was something about relinquishing the control he so often wrestled for outside the bedroom that comforted him. In those moments, of course.

Outside of those moments, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Hinata could so easily pry him open and carve out his most base level desires as if Kageyama were a Jack-O-Lantern. But Hinata never left him barren.

            He always remembered to leave a flicker of candlelight. He always remembered Kageyama needed that light. Kageyama would be lost without—

            Nishinoya pressed into Kageyama with one swift roll of his hips. Kageyama, thrown from his thoughts, instantly tightened up around Noya’s cock, head thrown back, neck straining.

            “Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Noya said, voice hoarse, hands wrapped around Kageyama’s ankles as he fought against the tension inside Kageyama’s body. “When people said you were uptight, I didn’t think they meant _this_ uptight.”

            “Does he ever stop talking,” Kageyama groaned, rocking against Nishinoya’s body as the boy began a harsh rhythm.

            “Not really. Unless you put something in his mouth,” Asahi said, running a towel through his hair.

            Hinata was shoved forward through the crowd—by whom, Kageyama didn’t know. He would assume Tsukishima. He always assumed Tsukishima.

            Hinata had lost his own towel, hands cupped around his cock as if no one in the room had seen it before, as if the team hadn’t just watched Kageyama as he was double-penetrated by the seniors, as if Hinata wasn’t himself capable of rendering Kageyama speechless with just a few rolls of his quick hips, as if the situation called for any semblance of humility.  

            Kageyama almost laughed as he watched.

            But then Hinata’s eyes shifted to Kageyama’s face, coated in a sheen of sweat where he lie on the floor. Heat pooled in Kageyama’s stomach, coiling up through his blood, through his veins, sinking into each muscle of his body because Hinata’s eyes were themselves the purest form of fire Kageyama had ever known.

            Hinata stepped towards Nishinoya and grabbed his face. His hands were small, but they held strength, thumbs pressing dimples into Noya’s cheeks, drawing the boy’s lips to part. Hinata’s cock slipped into Nishinoya’s mouth, and Kageyama heard him gag. He would never be used to the sounds of sex. Volleyball had familiar sounds. Sneakers against the waxed floor. Synthetic leather stretched around the ball coming to fall against bare forearms. Short soft breaths while sprinting across court.

            Sex was messy. Sex was _wet_. Sex was random and disorderly and sometimes super…gross.

Nishinoya’s lips stretched around Hinata’s cock, letting Hinata thrust forward as Nishinoya did the same to Kageyama. There was no rhythm. No balance. Even Suga and Daichi who seemed to have experience (both on the court and off…) creating a working rhythm had struggled to maintain anything once they’d fucked into him. Nishinoya and Hinata had none of that balance to begin with. They were moving in whatever rhythm or manner they could get to _feel_.

Kageyama liked that about sex with Hinata. Hinata was used to moving without looking, moving without _knowing_. Though instead of relying on Kageyama, trusting in him to make sure Hinata was in the right place at the right time, Hinata simply followed his own instincts. He was selfish, but he was brazen in all the right ways.

Hinata held Nishinoya’s face still, so Kageyama couldn’t see his eyes. But it didn’t matter. He was rather irked that Hinata had his own eyes closed. He wanted that heat back. He wanted that attention.

He kicked his leg out against Nishinoya’s hold on his ankle. Nishinoya fumbled for a moment, making a distressed gagging sound around Hinata’s cock. Kageyama got what he wanted, though.

Hinata’s eyelids fluttered open in surprise, his gaze shifting to Kageyama’s face. A smirk formed at the corner of his lips. Kageyama arched up, letting Hinata see the flush that had spread from his cheeks up to his ears and down neck to his chest. The shame burned up inside him, but he wanted more.

He kicked out against Nishinoya again, and this time Hinata caught his leg, without pulling his cock from Noya’s mouth. Noya seemed intrigued, watching Hinata’s hand tighten around Kageyama’s ankle, nails digging into the skin.

Kageyama gasped and writhed on the floor, pushing back towards Nishinoya’s thrusts. Noya let Kageyama’s other leg drop, and he wrapped it around Noya’s waist to give himself leverage as he ground back to meet each short thrust of Noya’s hips.

Hinata seemed to be moving slow. Simply enjoying himself as he bucked into the heat of Noya’s mouth. Kageyama hated how he could be so in control in that moment. He wanted to watch Hinata lose himself, which only happened in that short span of time between climax of pleasure and actual climax. The time between ‘coming’ and _coming_. He wasn’t sure how else to describe it.

Noya wrapped his fingers around Kageyama’s erection, and Kageyama was yet again drawn out of his own thoughts quite abruptly, precum leaking into Noya’s hand.

“Fuck,” Kageyama hissed, rolling his hips, not knowing whether he wanted more cock or more hand.

“Tell him what you want.”

Damn that Hinata.

“Tell him, Tobio.”

“Harder,” Kageyama breathed.

“What was that?”

“Harder.”

Someone in the background laughed. Kageyama dropped his head to the floor and wrenched his eyes shut.

“ _Harder_ ,” he demanded.

Noya gave him harder. His hips snapped roughly, hipbones slapping against Kageyama’s ass, and Kageyama couldn’t get enough air. It felt like one swift movement, like it never ended, like there was no respite. And God it was amazing.

            It did not, however, stop Noya from coming sooner than Kageyama would have wanted. He didn’t blame him, though. If it feels good, come. If he’d learned anything from Hinata, that’s what he’d learned. Though usually Hinata would follow up with—

            “Did you come, Tobio?”

            Kageyama shook his head and released a shameful whine.

            Nishinoya began to move away from Kageyama’s body, which only made Kageyama cry out more, too lost in sensations to do much of anything else. He could feel the cold, though, creeping in as Noya grabbed a towel and wiped himself off.

            “I can’t tell if it’s hotter that he’s secretly a whiny brat or…”

            “Yuu,” Asahi said, “don’t talk as if you aren’t also a whiny brat when the occasion is right.”

            “Why do you always have to call me out this shit? I’m just trying to make a point.”

            Hinata knelt down beside Kageyama. He brushed his matted hair from his face, and he smiled.

            “I hate it when you give me that smile,” Kageyama muttered, eyes narrowed.

            “What smile?”

            “That one. The one you’re wearing. The one that says you _know_ something about me. That you _know_ me.”

            “I didn’t know I had multiple smiles. I only have one pair of lips.”

            “It isn’t like you’re Mr. Potato Head. You don’t exchange smiles when you want a new one. You just have them. In…in an arsenal.”

            “A smile arsenal, huh?” Hinata was amused. Kageyama hated when Hinata was amused.

            “Shut up and fuck me.”

            “That’s no way to ask.”

            “I’m not asking. I’m demanding.”

            Hinata lightly slapped Kageyama’s cheek. Kageyama hissed and kept glaring up at Hinata.

            Kageyama remembered the first time he’d asked Hinata to slap him. He remembered the words tumbling from his mouth like he’d haphazardly tossed some Boggle letters at Hinata’s face. Hinata didn’t laugh. But he did smile. That one smile that Kageyama couldn’t stand. Because Hinata did know Kageyama. He knew him in a way that made Kageyama unafraid to say _Hit me harder_.

            Hinata slapped him again, this time on the hip. Kageyama arched into it, letting the sting mute itself into residual warmth.

            “Again.”

            Hinata slapped his thigh, his other side, his opposite cheek. Kageyama was tingling with stinging heat, and it only made him reach out for Hinata and grab his hair, pulling him down to kiss.

            Hinata bit at his lower lip, but Kageyama only wanted his lips. Hinata put his arms under Kageyama and attempted to flip him over, but Kageyama squirmed against the movement.

            “No.”

            “No?”

            “I want your eyes on me.”

            “They are on you,” Hinata said, trying again to flip Kageyama onto his hands and knees.

            “No, I—”

            “Trust me, Tobio.”

            He flipped onto his front and let himself crawl forward a bit, situating himself.

            “That was easy,” Tsukishima said.

            “I’m gonna kill him,” Kageyama spat, eyes trained on the floor.

            Hinata aimed a slap at Kageyama’s ass, and he fell forward onto his chest, crying out hoarsely.

            “Again.”           

            Hinata wasted no time rocking into Kageyama as he slapped him again, letting the pale pink of Kageyama’s skin darken to red. Hinata’s hands held tightly to Kageyama’s hips, below the soft dimples above his ass that Hinata would sometimes trace with the tip of his finger when they had time to waste, time to explore, time alone in the utility closet after practice.

            Hinata held Kageyama in just the right way, with just the right pressure. His fingertips wrapped around the edges of Kageyama’s hips in a way that made him feel infinite, like Hinata’s hands were the only things keeping him from spreading out into nothing, into everything.

            “You’re close,” Hinata said.

            “Let me come,” Kageyama ground out.

            “I told you to trust me.”

            Kageyama didn’t trust. Kageyama had lost his team because he couldn’t trust.

            “I know you do. I know you trust me,” Hinata added, whispering the words down Kageyama’s spine like he could pour them right into Kageyama’s skull, make them stay there, make them at home there. “Just because you wouldn’t, doesn’t mean you can’t. Doesn’t mean you don’t.”

            “You don’t make sense,” Kageyama muffled against his forearms, which were resting under his head.

            Hinata took the opportunity to grab Kageyama around the thighs and flip him again. He tied Kageyama’s legs round his waist and fucked back into his body as if no time had passed.

            Their faces were inches apart. They were eye to eye.

            “Oh God,” Kageyama said as he let the warmth of Hinata’s gaze coil around him again. He wondered if it was what being spit-roasted felt like. But in a pleasurable way, of course, if there could be such a thing.

            “Stop disappearing, Tobio,” Hinata breathed against Kageyama’s lips, kissing him chastely in contrast to the way his cock seemed to stroke deeper into Kageyama’s body with each thrust.

            “I’m right here.”

            Hinata kissed him again, tongue touching to Kageyama’s bottom lip, and it was all much too confusing trying to balance the rough deep movements building immeasurable friction with the soft gentle way Hinata kissed.

            “Let me disappear,” Kageyama said, and Hinata was the only one who knew what he meant.

            “They speak in code,” Suga muttered somewhere distantly.

            “They speak in poems,” Daichi added.

            Hinata’s hand flew to Kageyama’s throat, tight against his windpipe. There were times Hinata didn’t even bother holding Kageyama’s neck. There were times when Hinata would just look at Kageyama, and he’d hold his own breath deep inside his chest for as long as it took to start feeling himself sinking, vibrating at the edges, as if trying to burst out of his own skin.

            When Hinata held him down, though, Kageyama swore he could see purple. He could see forever. He could feel parts of his own body he didn’t think it was possible to feel. And then it was like he could feel everything at once, everything so strange and strong and wonderful, and fuck he wished he could cry out _harder_ or _more, please_ , but he didn’t need to.

            Hinata gave him everything, holding him down, holding his throat closed until Kageyama tapped his wrist. Hinata would loosen for a few seconds, letting Kageyama squeeze in some needed air, and then his hand was back and tight in place. It was easier to get back to that serene space each time he needed air after the first time.

            And once Hinata began to lose rhythm, Kageyama was already lost, already in that place he suspected lay behind his eyelids, where it was black and purple and yet bright all at once. Where light danced through darkness, and Kageyama was just a mass of sensations, not a body.

            “So good, Tobio, so good,” Hinata said, and Kageyama heard him at the edge of his consciousness.

            He knew when his body began to shift over the border of tingling and bright to numb that he needed to tap Hinata’s wrist again. He needed air. But he liked to push himself, liked to see how much harder he could come if he waited just a moment longer to breathe.

            But Hinata never let him. He could see Kageyama’s lips grow pale, and he released Kageyama’s throat, moving his hand to lightly graze over Kageyama’s cock.

            Just like that, Kageyama’s orgasm ripped through him, and he scraped at the ground with his nails, scraped at his own arms, cried out over and over, because it was too much. The air, the explosion behind his eyelids, the tightness in his core, the release.

            He was shaking. He knew he was shaking, but Hinata held him until he rolled his hips through his own orgasm. He didn’t pull out of Kageyama, though, knowing he liked to feel him grow soft inside him. He wasn’t ready to let go yet.

            Hinata’s hands roamed over his bare skin, palms clammy but feeling like heaven against Kageyama’s heated body.

            “You know you have to tell me when you need to breathe,” Hinata said.

            “I can take more.”

            Hinata ignored him and wiped his hand on Kageyama’s chest, spreading his own come there.

            “Thanks,” Kageyama scoffed.

            Hinata’s gaze softened, and he gave Kageyama a different smile, the one that spoke of familiarity, of a bond, of something Kageyama wouldn’t touch. Something Kageyama was afraid to touch. Because Hinata was fire, and Kageyama wasn’t a fool. They were a team, only a team.

            “You guys know I can’t keep you here much later,” Daichi offered into the silence of the room.

            Hinata laughed, and it was the purest sound Kageyama had ever heard come from the mouth of someone who had just fucked him into submission. Hinata and Daichi were similar that way. Terrifying in their ability to be both so gentle and yet so rough.

            Someone threw a towel onto Kageyama’s head. And then Hinata slipped away from him. And then another towel fell. And another. And another. Soon enough, Kageyama was buried under wet towels.

            “Welcome to the team, Tobio,” Daichi declared.

            “Here you’re not a king.”

            “Oh God, not a speech,” Kageyama and Tsukishima seemed to groan at once.

            “As we were saying. Here there are no kings.”

            “Here you’re covered in come and— _ow_ , I mean, he _is_ —”

            “We _mean_ , here you’re just one of us.”

            “But that’s just the way we like you.”

            “Okay, but next time throw clean towels on me, please,” Kageyama groaned. “And, coach, can I take off next practice? I can’t feel my anything.”

            Hinata tossed some of the towels away from Kageyama’s face, and he reached for his hands to help pull him to standing.

            “As long as you’re here, I’m invisible, right?”

            Kageyama dropped his face into his hands. “Invincible.”

            Hinata squeezed his hand, and Kageyama let himself smile.

           

           

           

           


End file.
